


Been A Long Time

by aunt_zelda



Category: Pacific Rim (2013)
Genre: Blow Jobs, Community: pacificrimkink, Knifeplay, Knives, M/M, Mildly Dubious Consent, Threats of Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-14
Updated: 2013-08-14
Packaged: 2017-12-23 10:21:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 568
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/925222
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aunt_zelda/pseuds/aunt_zelda
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tendo Choi and Hannibal Chau meet each other again for the first time in nine years; knives are drawn.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Been A Long Time

**Author's Note:**

> Repost, a fill for this prompt at the Pacific Rim Kink Meme:  
> http://pacificrimkink.livejournal.com/350.html?thread=288862#t288862  
>  _Clifton Collins Jr mentioned that his character had a shady past. Hannibal Chau is as shady as a person can get. Possibly engineer a meeting between these two?  
>  Bonus: Somehow work their really good taste in fashion into this._

“Tendo Choi …”

Tendo freezes, hand reaching for the door. 

He doesn’t need to turn around to know who it is, but he does, anyways. 

“Hannibal Chau,” he says, carefully and deliberately, as he does with everything around the man. 

“Been a long time,” Hannibal says, moving closer. The hallway is dimly lit, a disused hallway of the facility. No one else will come this way for quite some time. “Seven, eight years?”

“Nine.” Tendo crosses his arms. 

“Ah, yes, of course. You’re looking awfully fancy for a military radio announcer.”

Tendo doesn’t rise to the bait. “And you’re looking very … shiny.” He smiles, ever so slightly. 

Hannibal laughs, low and rumbling. Then, without warning, he lunges forward, butterfly knife in hand.

But Tendo is ready. He’s been ready, ever since he recognized Hannibal’s voice.

His own knife comes up, a corvo, blocking Hannibal’s attack. Tendo gets to register the brief look of surprise on Hannibal’s face before the man swipes for a new attack. Tendo ducks, bounces off the wall and slashes wildly at Hannibal. He’s out of practice, dammit, he won’t be able to take Hannibal like this.

Tendo feigns an attack and heads for the door, hoping to make his way to a more crowded section of the facility. Surely Hannibal wouldn’t follow him there?

Hannibal trips him, sends him sprawling onto the floor, and Tendo has a flash of panic. Falling, fumbling with his knife, back exposed … he’s dead already. 

But he doesn’t feel the slice of a knife at his throat, or the thrust of it into his back. Hannibal waits for him to roll over, scramble to his feet, and begin again. Hannibal is … toying with him. Rather than going for a kill, he wants a kind of game. A dance, between old … friends. 

Tendo nods quickly, and Hannibal returns the nod, grinning broadly before lunging in for another swipe with his knife.

Now that he knows this isn’t a struggle between life and death, Tendo can relax, just a little. Harken back to the old days, before betrayals and bodies in the streets and scars that he keeps hidden nowadays instead of proudly displaying for all to see. 

Hannibal wins, of course, presses Tendo against the wall and holds his knife underneath Tendo’s throat. He twists Tendo’s wrist, and the corvo clatters to the floor. 

“You’re rusty, Choi,” Hannibal smirks. “I could gut you like a fish, here and now.”

“You could,” Tendo agrees, and shifts his hips, pressing his knee between Hannibal’s legs. “But I can think of some better things you could do to me.”

Hannibal’s grin widens. “Oh?” the knife cuts into Tendo’s skin. Tendo doesn’t flinch.

Slowly, as Hannibal keeps the knife steady, Tendo reaches down between them and fumbles with Hannibal’s belt. 

“I remember your mouth, Choi,” Hannibal purrs, tracing his blade along Tendo’s chin and cheek. “Can I trust you not to bite?”

“Perhaps. Can I trust you not to take out my eye with that thing?” Tendo asks. 

“Perhaps,” Hannibal parrots back, laughing. “Good enough for me.” He pushes Tendo roughly to the floor. “You better not be rusty at this too, Choi, or … _fuck_!” Hannibal groans, the knife slipping slightly, scratching Tendo just below the eye. 

Tendo smiles, wrapping his lips around Hannibal’s cock. His knifework might be a bit clumsy, but he’s only gotten better at _this_ since the last time they met.


End file.
